


(count the seconds) between the thoughts of you

by MichellesBoh (michellesbohh)



Series: look at all the things my true love gave to me (my true love) [2]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Infidelity, background gwen stacy, like she's only mentioned, oof
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28103370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michellesbohh/pseuds/MichellesBoh
Summary: "When she sees the envelope in the mail, for a moment she's excited. She'll never admit it, but she thinks weddings are beautiful and so she flips over the fancy envelope and nearly drops her oat latte. She stops reading about 10 seconds after she opens it.Mr. Peter Benjamin Parker & Ms. Gwendolyne Maxine Stacy request the honor of your company as they join their lives in the presence of family and friends...Michelle spends the months leading up to it reliving every moment every interaction that led to the end of their relationship. She revisits every tiny crack, every fracture, and she shows up at Peter’s door with all the broken pieces.It’s a stupid idea and she has no plan but somehow she still finds herself knocking on his same apartment door anyways."Promptmas Day 2!
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: look at all the things my true love gave to me (my true love) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056125
Comments: 86
Kudos: 77
Collections: Twelve Days of Promptmas





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Promptmas fill that ended up way longer than a drabble, but it do be like that on occasion.
> 
> I have not edited this and wrote it all in an hour and it's basically midnight so all mistakes are mine and I'm sorry.
> 
> More love for @Spiderman-homecomeme.
> 
> Title from If I Can't Have You by Sara Bareilles

When she sees the envelope in the mail, for a moment she's excited. She'll never admit it, but she thinks weddings are beautiful and so she flips over the fancy envelope and nearly drops her oat latte. She stops reading about 10 seconds after she opens it. 

_Mr. Peter Benjamin Parker & Ms. Gwendolyne Maxine Stacy request the honor of your company as they join their lives in the presence of family and friends..._

Michelle spends the months leading up to it reliving every moment every interaction that led to the end of their relationship. She revisits every tiny crack, every fracture, and she shows up at Peter’s door with all the broken pieces. 

It’s a stupid idea and she has _no plan_ but somehow she still finds herself knocking on his same apartment door anyways. 

She’s struck dumb when she sees the stretch of his shirt over his arms and how his gaze still softens just so at the sight of her. 

“MJ,” the awe she hears does nothing to convince her this is wrong and so she does the only thing she wants to do which just happens to be the worst thing she could do as well. 

_Life is complicated like that,_ she tells herself as she captures his lips like it’s been hours rather than years since she last did so. 

She’s pleasantly surprised when Peter not only melts into her immediately, but tugs her into him until he can press her back against the door jam. Her hands are not shy as they tug and pull at the collar of his shirt, never allowing his mouth to leave hers for more than the second she needs to breathe and dive back in. 

Peter clutches her hips in his hands like he means business, but the sound of the stairwell door opening breaks them apart. Michelle kisses him softly, slowing down the kisses until she pulls back and when she blinks she finally sees inside.

He reaches for her again, chasing after her, and she lets him mold their mouths together one more time before she really puts a stop to it.

His lips taste like regret. His hands at her hips feel like daggers as her eyes never stray from the scene behind Peter.

The furniture that Peter would have never picked himself, the tiny Christmas tree that she knows can’t be his, the photos on the wall. 

When she sees _her_ face smiling out at her from a frame on the entryway wall, greyish blue eyes piercing, Michelle realizes she should not have come. 

“I should- I should go…” She feels naked in a way that doesn’t feel good and her body’s only message is _get out now now now_. Standing there in his doorway she feels the most alone she’s ever felt. 

Seemingly deciding something, Peter’s gaze slips into something a little more friendly and little less fiery as he stands aside, “No, please. I- I want to catch up with you. We can just not…”

Her face burns at the things left unsaid in his invitation because _yeah Michelle, you should absolutely not be kissing the groom-to-be on the eve of his wedding._

Every atom in her body screams at her to both turn and run and to fling herself into his arms and pray he never lets go. She manages to cross over the threshold with a tentative but still grateful smile and the click of the door shutting behind her is deafening. 

Peter scratches at the back of his neck, staring in a way that’s not entirely appropriate given the agreement they’d just come to but his eyes never leave her lips, transfixed at the nervous way she keeps wetting them. 

He doesn’t need to know it’s because she can taste him there, after so long, _so many years_ she’d forgotten how addicted to him she’d been. Her decision to make her way all the way to his doorstep a clear indication that she’s not nearly as “over” Peter Parker as she’d thought she was. 

For a while they stand there, neither daring to sit down on the couch for fear of being too close to each other again as they talk about his life and hers and how they ended up where they are today. 

She relishes the way his eyes still spark in recognition when she makes some dry comment and how he still has that one rogue floofy eyebrow that never seems to be tamed in any way. The energy is positive and after a half hour or so, Michelle really feels like she and Peter have a shot at being _friends_ after all of this. 

He works up his nerve and gestures towards the couch when it becomes clear that she intends to stay a while and when they settle into the cushions, knees brushing, the conversation doesn’t stall at all. 

Inevitably, the conversation shifts to the wedding and-

“Peter, you seriously cannot be that dumb.” She wasn’t angry about it until he painted the picture. 

Until she could practically hear the brushstrokes dragging across the canvas. 

Until he semi-gushed about Gwen and how she really wanted a winter wedding. How she just loves that it’ll be White Christmas this year. How excited her parents, _May_ , were thrilled that there would be snow in the pictures. She’d smiled and nodded at the appropriate moments, but when she’d asked about the venue, she lost it. 

“You’re having a ‘small intimate ceremony’ with your closest friends and family _and your ex girlfriend???”_

Michelle throws her hands out in front of her, ankle bumping against his knee where she’s crossed her legs and she still takes a moment to be breathless at the contact before her anger bubbles over again, “Why would you even _invite me_ to your wedding, Peter!? Why would you even let me in here right now?!” 

It seems she’s not the only one who’s been holding something back because Peter stands then, mirroring her stance and scoffing at her question as if the answer is the most obvious thing. 

To him it is. 

“Of course I did! Of course I invited you. Of course I let you in. Of _fucking_ course, Michelle!” 

He’s exasperated in a way that she’s never had the privilege of seeing. It’s a beautiful tragic storm as Peter’s anguish fills the space around them, but there’s a bite to his tone. A distinct sense of (rightful) irritation that she’s never been on the receiving end of from him. 

Their relationship never made it this far, to the big fights that matter, to the desperation that comes with keeping safe the life you’ve built with someone. 

“I didn’t think it was even possible that you’d respond. I never dreamed you would, but I’m getting married,” he says as if it should be obvious. 

Michelle tries not to read too much into the way his voice breaks as he says it out loud to her for the first time. He takes a chance and looks into her eyes before he flickers his gaze way again, repeating himself with more confidence. 

“I’m getting married and I had to tell you. I had to ask you to be there because to do anything else still felt like betrayal,” He scoffs, “Five goddamned years MJ, and I _still_ think about shit like that. God, I didn’t think you’d actually show up. How could I have _known-_ ”

Peter tugs at his hair in frustration, a stark contrast to the ways she’d been yanking on it just minutes ago. She can still feel the burn of his lips against her skin when he suddenly stops his pacing and turns to her. His voice is quiet now, all the resistance seeping out of him, his tense muscles relaxing, sagging under the weight of this fight. 

“It’s you. Do you know that?” This is what she came here to hear, right? She doesn’t understand why it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room.

"It’s always been you, for me.” It’s five years too late and somehow still here too soon when he whispers, “ _You_ didn’t choose us. Michelle, you-” he meets her gaze, eyes red rimmed and pleading. “You didn’t choose _me._ ”

He waits, but she has nothing for him. No answers. No explanations. Nothing. 

“That was-” he stops short, a humorless laugh bubbling out of him at her lack of reaction to his words, “That was _your_ choice and what could I do but respect it, hmm?” 

Silence falls between them now that Peter’s said his piece and he doesn’t make any attempt to say more. He’s said more than he’s ever thought he’d get the chance to.

That little something deep down inside him, in the place where he keeps his most precious things, the one that had been hoping all these years- whispering to him in the early hours that _maybe..._ withers to dust and floats away as he realizes it’s made no difference. 

She’s crying now, hot tears trickling across her cheeks and she swipes the sleeve of her sweater across her eyes and just watches him. He’s such a different man to the one she’d known. Older. More mature and with the slightest bitterness she acknowledges, _not hers._

“I should go.” She already has her bag in hand as she says it and it’s silent until Peter shakes his head at her, turning away as he takes it one step further, “Yeah, you uh- shouldn’t have come actually.” 

His lips press together as he strides over to the window, watching the snow flutter down and blanket the quiet street below. He’s getting married tomorrow, but he doesn't think he’s ever felt less excited in his life. 

“I thought this was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year?”

The click of the door shutting is his answer.

* * *

_Ooh, if I can't have you_  
_Then I have to find a way to get through_  
_Though I don't want to_  
_I have to do my best to recall_  
_That I'm thankful that I held you at all..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt For Today : “I thought this was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year?”
> 
> I would apologize but...
> 
> Anywhoo, follow me on tumblr @michellesboh!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She knows that she has no right to be here, to be doing this today but that doesn't change the fact that it’s happening. 
> 
> Standing across from his future bride trying to find the words to introduce herself, she still doesn't know what she was thinking when she decided to come here.
> 
> Promptmas Day 7: "You did all this for me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyoooooo
> 
> I have no idea what is going to happen in this story but this verse would not stop speaking to me so here's this. 
> 
> Thanks to @jsscshvlr, @mjonesing, @spideysmj, and @spidermanhomecomeme for listening to me rant about this for the past few days. 
> 
> Special shout to @machiavelien for encouraging their bad behavior LOL
> 
> Psst- we saw that rating change coming, amirite??

She knows that she has no right to be here, to be doing this today but that doesn't change the fact that it’s happening. Standing across from his future bride trying to find the words to introduce herself, she still doesn't know what she was thinking when she decided to come here.

Especially after what had happened between them that morning. 

When she’d turned up at the rehearsal dinner after everything that had happened this morning, Peter had gone stock still the moment their eyes met across the room.

He’d watched, rapt, as she made her way through the throng of people separating her from the happy couple up on stage. He’d watched as Ned and Betty had excitedly hugged her on either side, grinning madly as they talked about how happy they were that she'd made it.

He’d watched as a clearly shocked May Parker had shaken herself at the sight of her and immediately tugged Michelle into a firm hug in the same way she had since they were teenagers.

He’d watched as Michelle had sunk into it, content and comfortable in a way that squeezed his heart in vice when he remembered how awkward she’d been the first time May had done it.

He’d only just introduced her as his girlfriend for the first time and the hug had clearly caught Michelle off guard. All of that uneasiness was gone now and all he saw was a resigned acknowledgement as May pulled back but kept Michelle in the cradle of her arms as she simply gazed at her.

Peter knew that the silent conversation they were having was about him and as she finally slipped away from May, his aunt looked pointedly at him over Michelle’s retreating shoulder as if to say, _“I hope you know what you’re doing, kid.”_

After a few more stilted hellos, she’d finally made it up to the stage where he and Gwen were seated at the edge, waiting, after just finishing the final run through before dinner was to be served.

“Um, hey,” she’d fumbled when she’d reached them, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears and pointedly not meeting Peter’s eye. “I’m-”

“You’re Michelle,” Gwen finishes easily, sitting up from where she’d been leaning her head on Peter’s shoulder, but not disentangling their arms even as she extended her hand to Michelle.

Lost for words she shakes Gwen’s hand on instinct and it appears her confusion is evident on her face because Gwen continues, “I’ve seen you in some of Peter’s old decathlon photos. Team Captain and all that.”

Michelle hasn’t thought about those days in such a long time that a smile finds its way to her face on it’s own as she thinks about some of those memories long since buried. It seems like Gwen is a talker because MJ comes back to the conversation to hear her still speaking.

“Oh! And you both looked so great in your prom photos too. I’ve probably seen that album more times that I can count when Ned gets into the whiskey,” she laughs, looking to her fiance for confirmation and her smile dims at the shaky nod Peter offers in support.

It seems no one knows what to say then and it’s in that moment that Gwen seems to realize something, “Peter! It’s MJ. Haven’t you not seen her in years? Stop being rude,” she scolds with a little swat as she releases his arm and pushes him towards her for the hug that should absolutely have already happened.

Two old friends, catching up at a wedding? Haven’t seen each other in years? Yes, this is no brainer and Gwen waits expectantly as Peter steps forward, something in the shade of irritation and apology in the downward turn of his lips as he slips his arms around Michelle’s waist for the second time that day.

Neither of them linger and when he steps back Michelle gives Gwen the best smile she can muster, “Congratulations. It looks like the wedding will be beautiful. I’m happy for you guys.”

She’s relying on the fact that Gwen doesn’t know her well enough to hear just how hollow the words sound, but Peter can’t help the scoff that escapes him and he does his best to pass it off as a cough when Gwen turns to look at him, concerned.

When Peter excuses himself to get a glass of water, Michelle quickly follows his lead and tells Gwen it was “so nice to meet her,” already backing away.

She doesn’t follow Peter, not right away. Michelle has zero experience with the game she and Peter seem to be playing, but she know enough to be fully aware that leaving the room so quickly after Peter would raise suspicions in even the most trusting of brides.

They way Gwen’s eyes follow her across the room to where she makes easy conversation with May before finding Ned and Betty in the crowd and really catching up with them tells her this.

Michelle can see there’s still a glimmer of awe and skepticism in her old friends’ eyes as they look at her, them still not believing she’s actually here and it’s...overwhelming.

After 15 minutes has passed and Peter still hasn’t returned, she excuses herself to find the bathroom sign she’d seen hanging above an archway leading down a small hallway.

She tries to convince herself that she’s not looking for him, but she’d passed 2 bathrooms in her way to find this bathroom so...

She almost gives up until she feels strong hands wrapping around her from behind and nearly screams as she’s pulled into one of the other doorways down this hall.

It isn’t until she hears his voice in her ear pleading with her to calm down that she relaxes into the embrace.

Once she’s inside Peter locks the door and she whirls on him, “What the actual fuck are you doing, Parker? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

She’s not angry, not really, she just doesn’t appreciate being startled like that. No one would.

He ignores her question in favor of posing his own, “Why are you here, MJ?”

His tone holds none of the warmth she’s come to expect from Peter and his fury is quiet, but it’s definitely there. She’s known Peter long enough to know that while he’s the most optimistic and genuinely positive person she’s ever known, there’s a darkness that runs through him from the things he’s seen in his life that he works hard to curb.

“You invited me here, Peter! You asked me to be here today.” Her chest is heaving and she pokes a finger at his shoulder just because she can. “I didn’t ask for this, you did.”

Peter takes a step back more out of instinct than because she’s knocked him off balance with her shove. He turns around, pacing the room before turning back to her, incredulous. “I asked for this?”

He forces a hand through his previously tamed curls, glaring at her when she tries to interrupt him, “I asked you to show up here- no let me finish. You kiss me, and then just...just leave? Why would I ever want that, MJ?”

“Well what do you want, Peter?” She’s right there in his face, secretly grateful that he’s thought enough to lock the door. She doesn’t want this conversation to be interrupted. “I don’t hear from you for damn near 4 years and then that fucking invitation just arrives and I’m supposed to just carry on like it’s any fucking Tuesday?”

Peter looks away from her now, sufficiently chastised but doesn’t soften in the way she expects him to. She’s not used to this wariness he shrouds her in now, like he’s handling her with safety gloves. Likes she’s something dangerous that might explode at any minute.

Michelle feels the hot flush of anger? She’s not sure, but whatever it is, it’s prickling under her skin and she reckons he might be right. He should stand back.

“I didn’t think you’d just ‘ _carry on,_ ’ I thought you would do something. Finally say something, I don’t know, Michelle,” Peter tells her and she can’t help but hear the bitterness, the resentment loud and clear and he doesn’t stop.

“Maybe finally figure out what it is you _want_ cause I-” Peter grunts in surprise when she cuts off his rant by sealing her mouth over his. Her hands are immediately in his hair, clutching at his jacket, tugging his belt loop.

It’s all too much and not enough and Peter is not a passenger. No, his hands grip at her hips with the same greediness she’d experienced earlier, his mouth makes it’s way down the length of her neck, tasting her skin and bringing her closer by a hand on her ass.

He backs them up until she pushes him down onto one of those banquet chairs with the rounded backs and the cushions that feel like cardboard. Neither of them care as Peter groans into her hair once she settles her full weight across his lap, grounding him.

 _“Fuck_ ,” she pants as her hands start working on the buttons of his shirt, working her way down until she can map her hands across a chest that’s just as toned and sculpted as she remembers it being the last time they did this.

Peter tucks a hand under the curve of her ass and grinds her across his hardness until she’s whining into his mouth for “more.” Deft fingers dive under the pleats of the dress she’s wearing and Michelle sighs at the feeling of his fingers slipping through her.

Peter nuzzles deeper into her hair, groaning, “You did all this for me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s working two fingers inside her.

It all happens so fast after that, and the memory comes back in waves as she rides silently in the back of the cab she’d commandeered from some middle aged couple. She needed to be gone and they weren’t fast enough.

Her mind betrays her, taking her thoughts back to Peter’s hands clasped at her ass, the feel of his mouth tonguing at her nipples where they’d only tugged down the straps of her dress to give him the access he’d craved.

The way he prodded hesitantly at her entrance before she couldn’t wait and took him in all at once with a deep moan and a shudder. She remembers the way his mouth never left her skin for more than a minute. The way his lips flitted up to her ears to tease her both with his tongue and his filthy words that she’d felt sink and settle right between her thighs with every hushed whisper.

When she came, it was with Peter’s tongue in her mouth and his hand grabbing at her ass hard enough to bruise and to keep himself buried deep inside her as he reached his own peak, moaning around a broken _“Michelle.”_

She clears her throat, turning away from the window to glance ahead at the oncoming traffic.

 _What am I doing?_ She asks herself and it terrifies her that she doesn’t have an answer. She doesn’t know why she’d acted the way she did today and she silently vows to herself that she would stop this.

Move on with her life in the same way Peter has and stop holding this candle for a relationship that barely got off the ground in the first place.

Exhausted both mentally and physically, when she gets back to her Air BnB, she drops everything in favor of hitting the bathroom for a shower.

It isn’t until she’s standing in front of the mirror undressing that it takes a final turn for the worse.

It isn’t until she’s trailing her fingers, almost reverently, over the various bruises and bites scattering her collarbone that she knows were the work of a hungry mouth that she realizes.

It isn’t until she drops the dress completely and sees the still tacky evidence of their mistake on the inside of her thighs.

_How could they- how could **she** have been so careless?_

She showers away the evidence, imagining it and all her problems circling down the drain with the soap suds from her lavender body wash and climbs into bed vowing not to panic until she knows there’s something to panic about.

12 hours later, Peter Parker marries Gwen Stacy and Michelle stands far in the back corner and claps along with all the other guests like her heart isn’t shattering.

Peter doesn’t look at her.

She leaves not knowing if it was better or worse that he hadn’t.

6 weeks later, as she’s spending her 3rd morning hunched over the cool porcelain of her toilet bowl, she decides it might be time to stop denying the truth she’d known that night she’s tried so hard to forget.

After a hasty trip to the drugstore and 2 full glasses of water, Michelle finds herself face to face with 2 sets of blue lines from the two sticks in front of her, and even though she’s terrified, she finds that there’s happiness too?

Her stomach flutters and she reaches for her phone, (to call Peter) only to find a message from Ned asking if MJ was willing to meet one of Gwen’s friends for a blind date.

Gwen.

Peter’s wife.

Peter has a _wife_ , and as the reality of their situation crashes back down on her, she feels sick for an entirely new reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop. 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @michellesbohh.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m just gonna say it…” she’s talking more to herself than anything, and Peter barely gets out “say what?” before-
> 
> “I’m pregnant,” she rushes, feeling the heavy burden of it all lessen just a little once she does."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a mammoth chapter. Longer than the first two combined and I split it up. Hope you enjoy and thanks so much for all the feedback so far!!
> 
> Also disclaimer in the words of my very wise enabler, @mjonesing: "Humans are horrifically capable of mistakes.  
> And you should SAY IT"
> 
> So remember that even good people make bad decisions y'all. xo

> _And how mighty the truth can be  
>  How her hammer and nails  
> Chisel beauty from grotesque things  
> -Sara Bareilles_

* * *

_“I brought you some sesame noodles,” is the first thing she hears when Peter comes uncharacteristically through her apartment door. He’s had a key since the day she moved in but the amount of times he’s actually used it? Negligible._

_He’s got his suit jacket slung over one arm and a bag of take out that smells too inviting in his other hand. He hangs up the jacket by the door and sets the bag of food down on her rickety dining table before crossing the room to give her a quick peck on the lips._

_“Thank you for bringing dinner,” she mumbles against his lips when they part briefly._

_When he starts to pull away, she brings a hand up to grip his already loosened tie, keeping him close and prolonging the kiss until Peter stumbles a little, distracted by the taste of her lips. She grins then, watching as he blinks away the fog and cheeses right back at her._

_He strokes idly at the back of her head, kisses her temple, tangles their fingers together. He loves her. She can feel it- in this moment she feels it so tangibly it's as if she could reach out and take hold of it. Pack it away in a box where she can revisit it always. Michelle takes a deep breath, losing herself in the feeling._

_But Peter’s always been attuned to her moods, sometimes he knows them better than she does and he stares at her a moment. Michelle puts on a smile, standing up to hug him properly and pressing a thumb to the worried creases wrinkling his brow._

_“I’ll get the plates.”_

_Peter’s eyes follow her to the kitchen where she pulls down one dinner plate and one dessert plate because Peter will dish out a portion of whatever he’s gotten for himself for her to try before eating the rest of it out of the carton._

_She’s certain he can see the tension in her shoulders, hear the erratic beat of her heart due to the nerves she feels at having to have the conversation she knows is coming. It isn’t until they’re sat down at the table, eating, that Peter can’t stand it anymore._

_“MJ, what’s wrong?” he’s got a pair of chopsticks in mid air, a dumpling precariously perched between the two sticks, and a frown on his face that she knows will only deepen once she finally tells him the news she has._

_“Nothing,” she says instead, standing to start clearing her plate in the sink._

* * *

Michelle rubs her hands together, cursing the fact that she’s left her gloves in the taxi she took here. Forgetfulness has been her most annoying pregnancy symptom so far as she’s gone through 2 pairs of gloves in the last 3 weeks…

Well...3 now.

She’s blowing fruitlessly on her fingers when she sees him. Peter’s wearing a nice woolen coat that still shows off his shoulders and his cheeks and lips are pink from the chill settled in the air. He’s beautiful and later she’ll blame the hormones for the way she leans forward on the bench, eager to be in Peter’s orbit once again.

The draw she feels to him emotionally and physically has always been a little terrifying for her. It’s the reason it took so long for the two of them to get together in the first place.

It’s the reason she’d found herself accepting a job in San Francisco the same week she’d seen apartment listings in Peter’s browser history.

It’s the reason she’d run.

Now she can admit (at least to herself) that all those years ago, she’d been running away. Running from a commitment which felt heavy and stifling even as her body rejected the idea of being away from Peter so violently that when she’d signed her new work contract, she’d vomited in the bathroom before the ink had dried.

“MJ I have to ask you…” She flinches, meeting his eyes and mentally preparing for whatever question has been weighing on Peter’s heart. She knows whatever question he has for her will be difficult to answer. They’d ended with so many unsaid things, so many what ifs that there’s no telling what he’ll ask her.

“When you left...how you-we ended things...Just-” he rakes a hand through his hair, a habit she knows means he’s nervous about his next words, either from the nature of the words themselves or from the thought that he might not get an answer that soothes him. “Why? Just why…”

Michelle considers him for a moment, taking in the furrow of his brow and the way his eyes flicker in and out of the openness she’s always seen in them to something more guarded and more in the shade of what she’s been seeing from him since they collided back together back in December.

It’s a bit surreal when she realizes, belatedly, the influence she has over him. She thinks back to showing up at his door, no plan- no intentions, and being immediately swept and anchored in his strong arms. She thinks back to how willingly Peter had embraced her, how much he clearly still wanted her.

Michelle isn’t self-sabotaging enough to convince herself that Peter doesn’t love Gwen. Peter is too good to be cheap or ingenuine with his love. He wouldn’t have come this far with Gwen if he didn’t believe that he loved her enough to give her the life she deserves.

Peter will not love halfway and he’d told her as much that night, all of him or none was the last thing he’d said to her before he left her to join the rest of the wedding party at the dinner.

_“Having you around me is too hard. I’m trying so hard to live my life but one look from you and I’m lost all over again. I can’t spend every day like this. If I can’t be with you, MJ...I can’t have you in my life. I can’t do halfway...not with you.”_

Michelle had sat in that chair, wondering if she was the kind of woman to make a scene like the one it would take to get Peter to leave with her. And no sooner had she considered it, she’d scolded herself for thinking she’d be able to cause that much pain to someone. And he left. And she didn't ask him to stay. She couldn't. 

Gwen, her family...they didn’t deserve that and so she’d decided then and there that she would not interfere anymore. Even in her conviction, her subconscious had refused to let her rest.

The touch of his hands, solid and demanding at her hips is still burned into her skin. She wakes up more nights than not reliving that moment, craving it, sinking into it, and it’s in that memory that she finds her insecurity.

Because Peter _had_ been so willing to fall back in with her, and yet he married Gwen just the same. As if their coupling wasn’t as soul shaking for him as it was for her. As if her sudden presence in his life again was a welcome surprise, but not impactful enough to alter the course of his destiny.

Gwen.

He chose Gwen.

Michelle has been grappling with that for the better part of 8 weeks as she struggled to find the best way to tell Peter the truth. Every time she’d think of just picking up the phone, she pictured a scenario where Gwen answers and Michelle has to make small talk with a woman who has done nothing but be kind to her, while Michelle has insulted her in every way that matters.

She still remembers how Gwen had caught her leaving the wedding and actually apologized for Peter’s conspicuous absence at her side as she made her rounds thanking those guests who would not be attending the reception.

Michelle, of course, was invited to the reception, but after Peter’s blatant dismissal of her presence, it seemed that Gwen had had the perceptiveness to know she would not be attending.

She still hasn’t gone a day since without thinking about the conversation that had followed.

_“I feel...I feel extremely,” one of the bridesmaids brushes past, stopping to fawn over Gwen’s beauty one more time before they head for the conference hall._

_Gwen darts her eyes around and motions toward a door tucked behind a pillar and a flower arrangement. Michelle finds herself following silently, nerves bubbling violently in her stomach as Gwen shuts the door behind them._

_It’s a little parlor room, vanity and stool tucked into the corner and a duffle with the monogram G.M.S. embroidered on the side._

_“This is where I’m supposed to change for the reception. It’s early now so no one will come looking for me here,“ she explains when she sees her eying the bag and Michelle nods stiffly, trying not to dwell on why Gwen seems adamant that this conversation not be interrupted._

_“I, uh- you must think I’m crazy for this,” Gwen laughs, pacing a little and talking mostly to herself. “Me, here, in my wedding dress at my wedding asking you about someone you dated 5 years ago.”_

_So this is about Peter._

_Michelle thinks that it should’ve been fairly obvious what this conversation would be about given that what she and Gwen Stacy have in common starts and stops with all things Peter Parker. She’s still stunned silent by her words, but Gwen doesn’t seem to need an answer from her yet as she presses on._

_“It’s silly. Completely, but…” she sighs, sinking down into the chair at the vanity and leaving Michelle to stand not entirely awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Has Peter...no rather...um, why did you come?”_

_She feels the heavy stone of guilt settle in the pit of her stomach as she thinks about her next words carefully. Truthfully, Michelle has still not quite worked out what she had hoped to gain by inserting herself back into this time in her life when she could have easily allowed it to be nothing more than a pleasant memory._

_A part of her knows it’s because she wanted to see Peter. She refuses to give life to the little seed in the back of her mind. The one that begs her for even a moment of sunlight in order to bloom into the sprout of hope she’s desperately trying to smother._

_Peter is married, she reminds herself, as though the sight of his literally blushing bride isn’t the picture of perfection in front of her._

_She shakes her head, a mirthless chuckle bubbling out of her as she tells Gwen, “It’s silly too, really. I think I was hoping to meet someone...that didn’t really work out too well. I didn’t know it was such a small ceremony.”_

_Gwen, much to Michelle’s relief, seems to accept that answer with a wry smile and a sympathetic nod, “Yeah, definitely. Weddings are really the only place nowadays that don’t involve the mandatory 100 hours in front of your cell phone screen waiting for messages and praying you don’t get dick pics.”_

_Michelle finds herself genuinely laughing at that and so she’s immediately caught off guard when Gwen sobers, “I’m so sorry about Peter today. I thought he'd have been happier to see you. He might not say it, but he still considers you one of his best friends. I know he misses you.”_

_She scans Gwen’s face for any signs of...anything and finds nothing but compassion. The warmth in her eyes nearly rivals Peter’s and there’s only understanding and grace as she watches Michelle. Gwen seems like one of those people who at first glance, seem to know nothing of tragedy, but Michelle knows well the things that she has seen._

_She knows that Gwen lost her father when she was young. That she knows what it feels like to break into pieces and instead of sowing bitterness she projects humility and kindness. She seems like the kind of person who knows that life and love are a little complicated even at the best of times._

_The unconditional and undeserved grace she bestows on Michelle is a testament to that, even barring the last 24 hours, and although Michelle is certain Gwen is aware of her past transgressions, she’s resolved to accept her just the same at really the barest of reassurances from Michelle._

_She can see why Peter loves her._

It's also what makes her feel like the worst person on the planet as Peter sits next to her, just waiting for whatever excuse she will come up with. The hope she sees in his eyes, the way he still has faith in her is what makes her finally speak.

“I was _scared,_ Peter.” She figures the truth hasn’t let her down yet, and she pushes on, “still am. I’m terrified.”

For a split second it looks like Peter might take her hand and she hates the wave of disappointment she feels when he doesn’t. “I looked at our relationship and how _serious_ we were getting and it scared me how much I needed you. I’ve never felt anything like it and I started just...overthinking everything.”

Michelle finds that once she’s started she can’t stop and Peter for his part doesn’t interrupt her. He doesn’t dare stop her words from flowing as he absorbs every bit. MJ has always been guarded with her feelings and towards the end of them, Peter felt the furthest away from her he’d felt since they met all those years ago and so he relishes this opportunity to see inside her head again.

“I just...couldn’t stop thinking about how we’ve never been with anyone else and how maybe you’ll get tired of me one day. And I just- did what I thought you were gonna do someday anyway and thought I was saving us from the pain of doing it further down the road.”

Peter does take her hand then, squeezing her fingers before bringing up his other hand to work on warming them up. “MJ why didn't you talk to me? You, _god_ you-- you’re the most important person to me. How could you ever think I would leave you?”

“You left me that night at the rehearsal dinner.” The words slip out from the dark place where she tucks away all of her prickliest feelings and impulses. She’s unintentionally laid herself bare with just that one sentence.

“ _What_? MJ, that’s not fair. What was I supposed to do? People were waiting for me, depending on me. I couldn’t let them dow-”

“But _fucking_ me on a banquet chair was somehow the less disappointing road to choose,” her voice is rife with sarcasm as she pulls her hand away. “ _God_ , Peter really? For once can you just do what feels right to you? Can you put yourself first _just_ this one time!?”

His frustration rolls off of him in heavy waves and she thinks if he could get away with it, he’d break something.

“And what exactly would you have me do, Michelle? Am I supposed to just leave Gwen? Come running back to-- to what? What would I be coming back to? Can you even tell me that?”

Her silence says more to Peter than any excuse she might make up could.

“I have never pretended about my feelings for you. I’ve never given you any reason to doubt me and even today. Right now, right here with just you and me, I’m asking and you still can’t even say it,” Peter doesn’t look at her as he snorts bitterly, eyes fixed across the small pond to the kids playing on the other side.

Michelle is stunned both at the turn this conversation has taken and the raw hurt she can hear in Peter’s voice. He’s calling her out in a way that makes her feel like he’s been able to see her so clearly this whole time when she thought she’d been hiding.

Either way, they can’t have the conversation that Peter wants. Not now and not until he knows the truth. She knows that and she hates it. She hates that this news is being shared like this. Something she’d be lying if she said she’d never thought about- tiny people with her big hair and his big ears.

She hates that she doesn’t know how Peter’s going to feel about it, hates that even though he wants a family of his own more than anything (she remembers the late nights where he’d whisper about it to her, only willing to spill those special wishes to the darkness), he’s fiercely loyal and he’s married to Gwen.

“You’d ask me to uproot my life. You’d ask me to...to _hurt_ people-- people I care about, MJ-- for my own benefit. ‘Be selfish for once’ like you said, but how could I? How could I when you can’t even look me in the eyes Michelle, and tell me what it’s all for.”

The selfish part of her own brain whispers that she should settle this _thing_ between the two of them before she impossibly complicates it by telling him about the baby. The voice inside her head spins webs of half truths and Michelle gets stuck on one intrusive thought...

_If he chooses her right now, if he comes back to her when he finds out, she’ll spend as long as they’re together wondering if he chose her because of it._

“I- Peter this isn’t why I brought you here,” she sighs, pinching between her brows as she tries to keep herself together. She really cannot handle this right now.

“Well, then what? You haven’t spoken to me in 2 months, Michelle. And for 4 years before that,” he feels the telling sting of tears and he clenches his jaw because he refuses to cry. He’s done enough crying.

“I-- I know. Peter, I’m sorry for the time we’ve lost,” she dips her head until she can see his eyes, “I am. Really.” It’s as close to an admission of her truest desires that she can manage and somehow they both know it wasn’t only the time that was lost in those 4 years.

The gleaming metallic sitting ostentatiously on Peter’s finger tells them that.

Peter catches her staring at it and he shifts his hands until it’s no longer shining in the late morning sun. He doesn’t repeat his question, just watches her, waiting…

“Michelle, I think I should go. I-- I told you before. This is too hard for me, and--”

“I’m just gonna say it…” she’s talking more to herself than anything, and Peter barely gets out “say what?” before-

“I’m pregnant,” she rushes, feeling the heavy burden of it all lessen just a little once she does. Now it’s not a secret. It’s not something she has to keep guarded. She’s not alone anymore. Whatever happens now, she knows Peter will be a part of it.

No matter what.

Somehow everything around them stills as soon as the words settle between them. Peter looks shell shocked and really, she can’t blame him. Michelle had been hoping to have a better lead up before she dropped that bomb but nothing about this meeting has gone the way she had imagined it would.

“How-um...how can you be sure I-”

 _“Peter!_ ” Her face screws up in hurt, mortification and he looks immediately regretful for having insinuated that she wouldn’t be sure. She offers more than he deserves when she tells him, “There’s not been anyone else...for a while now. It’s- it’s definitely you.”

It’s silent between them for long moment until Michelle breaks it with a dry laugh that’s all nerves, “Peter, I’m gonna need you to say something cause-”

“I knew. From the moment you sat down, I knew. And I just didn’t want to acknowledge it, ya know?” He’s laughing too now, but it’s empty as he starts to ramble, rising to his feet just for something to do. “Cause like what if it was none of my business, right? Oh- shit MJ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you- I don’t think that of you. I could never.”

Peter’s eyes are wide, stricken when he looks at her, studying her face before he drops his gaze down to her stomach. He keeps it there, eyes narrowed, “How far along are you now?”

She looks down now too, absently holding a hand over what she considers to be the smallest baby bump she’s ever seen. Her doctor had told her she’d likely show earlier than most due to her slender frame and Michelle had rolled her eyes at her and quipped, “just lucky I guess.”

“I’m a little over 8 weeks, how did you-”

“I can hear it. The heartbeat...” He sounds more conflicted than she’s ever heard him. “I can hear stuff like that all the time, but I just didn’t really want to think it was coming from you. Cause I think deep down I knew it would be mine. _God_ I-”

Peter doesn’t know what to do or say at this moment. He’s helplessly trying to sort through this new crop of emotions and he realizes above everything else, the worry, the _guilt_ , the fear, he’s happy. And when he puts a name to it, gives oxygen to joy that’s bubbling up inside him, he feels the guilt cascade back tenfold.

That guilt is settled alongside something else fiery when he turns to her again, “You sat here with me, talking about our past mistakes, knowing this and...and what?”

Michelle is desperate for him to understand, she stands too, reaching for him. “I didn’t want this to change things for you. I didn’t want it to influence your decisions like-”

“It’s a baby, Michelle! _Our_ baby! _Fuck_...of _course_ -” his voice breaks and her heart cracks right along with it. Peter takes a minute to compose himself, clearing his throat, “Of course that will ‘influence my decisions.’ How could it not?!”

MJ takes a step forward and Peter’s hands pull her the last bit of the way and into a hug MJ didn’t know she needed until her face was pressed into his neck, inhaling his scent, feeling his strong arms around her.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been crying, she doesn’t remember starting. All she can process is Peter’s chin tucked into her hair, his own quiet tears soaking into her curls as they put aside everything else and just allow themselves to truly feel the immense loss between them.

“It’s you and a baby, Michelle. In any other universe this wouldn’t even _be_ a decision…”

_(If he were honest, he’d say that it really still isn’t.)_

It wasn’t supposed to be like this for them. They’ve both been prideful and stubborn and as they embrace each other, they try as hard as they can to think of why they’re not-- why they haven’t been-- together all this time. In each other’s arms, soothed by the gentle rhythms of their heartbeats, their breathing, the criss-cross patterns Peter draws against her back, neither can remember the reason.

And almost like the universe thinks fucking with Peter is it’s personal favorite pastime, his phone rings and they both look down at the picture of Gwen’s smiling face and the reasons become clearer.

Michelle is 2 feet away, swiping at her eyes in an instant.

Peter doesn’t reach for her.

“I- _fuck_ I hate to just leave you like this _(Michelle thinks the irony is fitting)_ but I told her I’d call her on my lunch break and I guess I can stall a little longer she just worries. And now I have to tell her-”

“No, no. I get it. Happy wife. Happy life,” she says crossing her arms over the bump and squinting against the sun. Peter feels like he’ll have to jump soon to see over the wall she’s already started rebuilding.

“I- yeah something like that...I just, MJ? I want you to know I plan on being here for you. I don’t know how or in what way, but I- you’re not alone in this.” He takes her hand again briefly, squeezing to let her know he means it and lingering for reasons he can’t bring himself to face. “I’ll be here in any way you want me, okay?”

“I know you will. We...we made a mistake, but” she misses the way his eyes dim at the word “mistake.” “You’re a good guy, Peter. The best guy…”

Peter presses his lips together in a thin smile and standing there with him, because she can’t help herself, she asks, “Do you think if we had stayed in touch that maybe-”

“No.”

His words are like a bucket of ice water and when he sees the way she shrinks in on herself he quickly hurries to elaborate. “No, not ‘ _no_.’ You- uh...just don’t get to ask me that right now.”

She opens her mouth but the shrill alert on his phone stops her and he’s giving her one last apologetic look and backing away with promises to check on her soon.

And then he’s gone.

Michelle sighs, feeling like even after all that, she still has no idea what she’s doing. She doesn’t know how long she watches him leave, but when she turns to sit down on the bench, she starts once when she sees a man already sitting there, reading a comically large newspaper.

She clutches at her chest, ready to offer her apologies when the man lets it fold over itself and she sees Ned’s face staring back at her.

“I’ve always wanted to do that to someone,” he grins but she’s still stunned, so he graciously gives her a moment to get her breathing back together before he gestures to the seat next to him.

She finally manages to look at him and she sees confusion, maybe a little disappointment, but no judgement and she relaxes a little, leaning back on the bench.

“So,” he begins, reaching over to pat her arm. “Explain yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cool cool. Thoughts? lol
> 
> Find me on tumblr @michellesbohh. 
> 
> kbye.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the ground opened up and swallowed her whole, she’d say “thank you” and send it an edible arrangement. 
> 
> There isn't any place she thinks she's ever been that's made her feel as wretched as she feels locked in a stare with a teary-eyed Gwen Stacy. 
> 
> There's shock, though less than Michelle would've expected. There's confusion for sure, but the overarching weight of betrayal settles squarely and comfortably on Michelle's shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here! OOOF. This chapter is well on it's way to 7.5k but I didn't wanna split it up because I've kept you in suspense long enough! 
> 
> Song is from the qween Sara Bareilles.

> _I count the seconds (count the seconds) between the thoughts of you_
> 
> _I'm getting better, baby, I'm almost up to two  
> _   
>  _Oh, you had your reasons and I know_   
>  _Some folks are seasons, they got to come and go..._

* * *

This isn’t what she imagined. When she was a little girl, when she would play dress up and dream about being married, this is nowhere near how she imagined it."Do you want more?" Peter holds out the half-empty container of Khao Pad, offering her the chance to try it before he undoubtedly finishes it off. She shakes her head and he smiles at her before tucking back in and eating straight from the takeout box. 

It’s a habit of Peter’s she’s never quite understood, and she shifts, balancing her plate across her knees as she continues eating her Pad Thai. She’s picking out a few peanuts that she’d missed earlier (she doesn’t like them) when Peter catches her eye and smiles sheepishly. 

“Sorry I forgot to say no peanuts. I had a really crazy morning today at...uh- at work.” 

"It's okay. What happened at work?" she asks around a bite of her noodles and Peter chokes a little, reaching for his water glass. 

“Uh- we just got some crazy...test results,” he tells her, smiling when she passes him a napkin when he continues to sputter. 

Gwen matches his smile and hums and they go back to sitting in their amicable silence. Some episode of Law and Order: SVU plays in the background because there was nothing else on and the lazy scrape of her fork against the plate is the only other sound in their apartment. 

It's been about 8 weeks since their wedding and subsequent honeymoon and ever since that day, something with Peter has been...different. She wants to say he's been a little off, but she can't really pinpoint any odd behavior, and her feeling out of step with him doesn't mean that he's _done_ anything. 

It’s the loneliest she's felt since she and Peter got back together and Gwen wants so badly to talk about it with Betty the way they used to when the two of them were roommates during college. Those talks had always grounded her but she knows any talk about Peter to Betty will make its way to Ned, Betty’s husband, and eventually back to Peter himself. 

It’s a risk she’s not willing to take when there’s so little to discuss. 

It’s just that... Peter used to call her during his lunch break to ask her about her morning and now...he says he’s just under a lot of stress at work and Gwen understands, but something gnaws at her even as he always apologizes for forgetting and promises to try harder. 

He’d made sure he called her at lunch just that day, asking her if she didn’t mind Thai for dinner and the conversation was stop and start... more formal than usual and when they hung up, Peter’s _I love you_ was quick and perfunctory. Almost like an automatic response rather than a true expression of love.

The sound of it had haunted her all day until she came home and found this amazing spread of food and her husband beaming at her from his perch on the sofa. His hair was ruffled in the way it always was when she came home late and he’d already been into the spring rolls by the time she’d changed and joined him. 

Since then they haven’t spoken too much, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable it just...is. 

Peter’s phone rings and he jumps, something she’s seen him do maybe 3 times in all the years she’s known him. He leans forward, shielding the screen from her view, though she can’t definitively say whether he’s done it on purpose. 

“I’m just gonna…” He raises the phone and she nods, reaching to pause the show. “Oh, no you don’t-uh...I’ve seen this one just keep going,” he tells her as he heads back to their bedroom to take the call. 

She’s just about to say ‘okay’ when she hears her own phone ringing from inside her bag left by the door. “Perfect timing,” she says instead and Peter huffs before heading down the hall and shutting the door. 

_Must be some important call,_ she thinks to herself as she finally fishes out her phone to see the name and number of their wedding planner? She checks the time to see it's a little past 6:30 pm.

_Weird._

“Uh, hey Julia, what’s up…?”

* * *

When Michelle gets home that evening, she falls onto her couch like it’s the only thing in the world that’s always been there for her. 

Her conversation with Ned had gone...as well as can be expected. His complete and utter shock when she’d shared what happened at the wedding was the craziest thing she’d ever seen until she’d seen his face after she dropped the pregnancy news. 

For a few seconds, she’d been genuinely concerned that he was having some kind of episode until he’d exhaled a long breath and squeezed her hand. 

“ _This is definitely not an ideal situation, but…”_

_She looks up at him then, tears brimming her eyes again at the tenderness she sees there. The understanding of the situation better than anyone could, other than Peter and herself. Ned’s been right on the sidelines through all of it and as she gazes at him, she knows he gets it._

_“...you’re MJ,” he tells her like it’s the most obvious thing. “You know I’ve always rooted for you guys.”_

She squeezes her eyes shut at the memory, pulling out her phone and scrolling until she finds the number she’s looking for, hovering her thumb over the call button.

It’s a little after 6:30p so she figures he’s done with work and before she can overthink it like usual, she hits the little green icon and holds her breath.

It rings 3 times and she feels like she might combust between every ring. She’s just about to give up and hang up when Peter answers, whispering a little breathlessly and she’s hoping it’s a little (a lot) because of her. 

“ _Hey, MJ…”_

The sound of his voice soothes her instantly and she almost forgets to respond. “Uh- hey. Are you busy?” 

She hears the sound of a door shutting and she wonders if Gwen is home, if he’s excused himself to another room to talk to her. She’s not sure if that’s better or worse. 

“I- uh…” His eyes drift to the chipping white paint of his and Gwen’s bedroom door, where he knows she’s on the other side waiting for him. “I’m a little, but you know I’ll always make time for you. Especially now that…” 

He doesn’t say it, but the weight of it hangs between them just as if he had and Michelle sighs, “Yeah, now…” 

The creak of old bed springs interrupts the silence and she assumes that means he’s taken a seat on his bed, and Michelle settles deeper into the worn cushions of her sofa as Peter waits for her to say something. 

“I mis- I’m not really sure why I called…” she confesses and if Peter hears her misspeak or registers her lie at all, he’s gracious enough not to confront her about it. Deep down MJ knows that she called him because she wanted to hear his voice, but where is the line? 

Everything that’s happened between them since she stumbled back onto his doorstep and into his arms all those weeks ago has been spontaneous. She doesn’t know what they are to each other and she doesn’t know what the boundaries are of their new relationship. 

Her mind races as she tries to make sense of all the questions floating around in her head in real-time. 

_Is it inappropriate to tell him that she misses him if he’s married? Yes._

_Is that somehow more inappropriate than the intimate moments they’ve already shared? Also, yes._

_Do those moments push them further away from fully crossing that line and being honest with their affections and the depth of them?..._

_Or does the magnitude of what they're facing and the things they've done to arrive here mean there is no line anymore?_

She scrubs a hand across her face with a groan and Peter leans back against his pillow. “I don’t know how to do this, Peter.”

He sighs too, sounding more tired than Michelle thinks she’s ever heard him as he agrees. “Yeah, I- you know with you...nothing feels wrong. That’s how we ended up in this mes- _situation-_ in the first place.”

The more they dance around it, the more it begs for their attention. He’d said it earlier and he’s saying it again now. Michelle is the only one here who isn’t willing to step fully out on that limb and she can’t for the life of her figure out why. 

“Yeah...it is.” 

They don’t talk much longer after that and when Peter comes back he stops at the edge of the couch when he sees the look on Gwen’s face. For a moment he’s afraid she’s overheard his conversation, but she forces a casual laugh and cards a shaking hand through her hair.

“So...that was Julia. And I’ve got some, well crazy news,” Gwen’s smile falls a little when she says the absolute last thing Peter expects to hear.

“We’re not actually married.”

Peter flops heavily next to her, scratching anxiously at the back of his neck, eyes closed as he tries to sort through the rush of emotions he’s now feeling. 

Shock? Definitely. Confusion? 100%. Deeper, way down...relief? He’s ashamed but he can’t deny the stone of guilt he’s been reckoning with lightens considerably at the news. 

He knows that what he did, what he and Michelle did together, was wrong. He knows that this doesn’t change the fact that he’s hurt Gwen, even if she doesn’t know it yet., but after the news today Peter is finding it harder to be disappointed and _that_ is what makes him feel bad. 

“How did this happen?” He finally manages and Gwen looks annoyed then. 

“Apparently the officiant had a lapse in their registration with the state, so...technically our marriage isn’t valid. We’ll have to refile for a new license and then have a second ceremony.” 

She tells him more about how Julia says she'll get the paperwork together by tomorrow and they just need to sign and plan a day to come down to the courthouse, but Peter's mind is elsewhere. 

He feels like something is shifting and it unsettles him. He sees an opportunity to have the thing he’s been trying to tell himself he doesn’t need. He sees a chance. 

And then the doubt creeps in as he remembers his conversations with Michelle earlier and just now. He remembers her unwillingness to be open with her feelings, her hesitance to let him in. 

_Would she even want me?_

It’s not knowing the answer that keeps Peter from telling the truth right then like he should. 

Like he _knows_ he should. 

“I don’t know if I can learn another choreographed dance, Gwen,” is the first thing that comes out of Peter’s mouth and it serves to cut the tension between them. Gwen laughs, eyes brighter than they’d been a moment prior and she reaches over to take his hand. 

“I think we can skip the dance this time...for all our sakes.

* * *

“ _You have to meet me there at 1 pm, Peter. 1 pm!"_

Peter can hear the voice of his _not_ wife through the audio in his suit and he tries to keep his voice level as he promises, “Yes, as soon as I finish up with this clown, I’ll be there.” 

Gwen groans and Peter can practically hear her eyes rolling, “ _That’s what you’ve said the last 4 times I’ve made this appointment, Peter…”_

He scoffs, “I can’t control when criminals are committing crimes, Gwen.”

It’s a flimsy excuse, but it’s tried and true and Peter just feels like he needs...more time. 

With everything happening, reestablishing their marriage license and dealing with all the pregnancy madness, Peter hasn't been able to think straight in weeks. He narrowly misses getting hit by a flying billboard when he tells her he has to go. 

Gwen doesn’t argue, saying a stilted _I love you_ before heading out for the courthouse.

She regrets being short with him when she gets the call an hour later that Peter’s been hurt. And this alone isn’t enough to alarm her, but when Happy says it’s _“real bad”_ that he’s _never seen him like this,”_ her stomach bottoms out.

Once she actually makes it to the tower, time slips away and she works on autopilot, signing papers and listening to doctors tell her all about Peter’s condition in words too complicated for her to understand. 

She doesn’t sleep a wink and in the morning when the doctors come back to check on him, they’re in the middle of explaining how his healing is lagging more than they've seen in the past when they're interrupted. 

“Mmm..” Peter groans and Gwen is at his side in an instant, gripping his hand tightly as he flutters his eyes open. 

“M-MJ? MJ?”

.

..

...

....

.....

.......

She must freeze because May’s tugging at her shoulders suddenly, pulling her out of the room into the hall. “Hey, breathe for me, yeah?”

“What did- how?”

"The doctors think he might have some memory loss. We told him how it's been years since he was with..." she trails off and Gwen grimaces. "...and they said that we can't know for sure until he's awake for longer. He went right back out almost right away so we just have to see."

Gwen feels like her head is spinning, and May must see something on her face that worries her because she's ushering her down the hall before she even realizes it. 

“You look like you need a decent coffee and shower. Go home. Get a change of clothes, come back fresh. I’ll hold down the fort.” 

Something in her wants to fight, but she _is_ exhausted and she trusts May so she nods, gathering her coat. Happy pokes his head around the corner once he hears the ding of the elevator going down, “Did he really say-”

May whirls on him, long hair whipping behind her as she fidgets with her thick glasses, “He did,” she frowns, lips twisting. 

“Oh, no...what are you thinking? I know that look, that look normally leads to things that raise my blood pressure.”

“I thought you liked it when I raised your blood pressure?” May laughs lightly, swatting at him. “Now what are the chances you think that Michelle is still in New York?”

Happy looks conflicted, reaching into his pocket for his phone, “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.” 

May swipes the phone from his grip, brandishing it towards him, “Who knows? Maybe this will help…”

* * *

Michelle zones out as she watches the trees whizzing by. She doesn't know the name of the driver they'd sent for her, but she looks at Michelle with kind, knowing eyes. Eyes like she knows exactly what Michelle is headed to and that she's not the first she'd taken there. 

Her hands go mindlessly to her belly, rounded more now than it was the last time she’d seen him. Peter had kept his word and he’d stayed present, but safely away at whatever distance she dictated throughout the entire thing. 

There were days when she would find herself yearning for him, for his tenderness, and she would shoot him a text asking if he was “busy” at the moment. Unspoken between them, “busy” had quickly become their code for “is Gwen around?” and the soft thud to the palm of her hand has her sucking in a breath to stay grounded. 

_She can’t lose him. She can’t._

Michelle knows loss. She felt it at 11 when her favorite grandmother died. She’d felt it more strongly at 16 when she lost her father to the seduction of bachelorhood. It’s a feeling that pierces through you, leaves you aching. 

The thought of losing Peter just about bowls her over. They’re not together and haven’t been together for years now, but something had always felt unfinished between them. 

Michelle had held onto that feeling of hope for years after she and Peter broke up and it wasn’t until today, until she realized how quickly she could lose him forever, that she had to reckon with what it might be like to live without him. 

The sound of gravel under the tires pulls her out of her reverie and she sees that they’ve arrived. The Avengers Upstate facility had been rebuilt in the years after Tony’s passing to be a place for them to come together and a place for them to care for each other. 

She knows Peter spends most of his free time between shifts and all the million other things he does here at the tower.

She’d never understood going somewhere that was always bustling as a place to relax, but soon she’d realized that Peter liked to feel needed but there at the tower, he isn’t. 

Once the car comes to a stop, she’s sliding out as quickly as her belly will allow her. They hadn’t said on the phone how bad it was, but if they called her she knows it’s serious. 

As she knocks her head back against the elevator wall, she thinks of all the time they’d wasted. She thinks of how many times over the years, she’d reach for her phone, open up a message and change her mind. 

She thinks of all the times Peter invaded her daydreams on random days...an errant thought of how he was doing. A briefly entertained impulse to try and reconnect. Every time it happened she stopped herself-- making up some excuse not to reach out. 

And every time… there was a whisper in the back of her mind. A voice that settled peace into her anxious heart with the hushed reassurance that there was still time, _next time_ to consider. 

She squeezes her eyes shut and curses as the dark reality (that time could very well be up) creeps back into her mind. The ding of the elevator is the only thing that keeps her from sinking into it. 

Michelle has been here plenty of times before so it takes her no time to find the wing she's looking for. May meets her at the door, hands gripping tightly to Michelle's forearms as soon as she's in reach. 

Her eyes widen a half-second later when she registers the bump sitting proudly above her pelvis. May sucks in a breath, eyes tripping back and forth between it and Michelle's nervous eyes. She gently presses a hand at the top of the swell, finding Michelle's eyes again and holding them. 

May, uncharacteristically silent, furrows her brow, tilts her head just so and Michelle knows the question she’s asking. Her eyes are cautious, but there’s a warmth there, an affection that Michelle has forced herself to forget ever relying on. 

She blows out a breath through her nose and purses her lips and it's enough. May's quiet gasp, the way her fingers tighten just a little where they still encircle Michelle's wrist. 

“We sent for you, honey, because well....” May appears flustered for the first time, “He woke up for a moment earlier and he was so disoriented and he...he didn’t seem to know where he was or what day it was…” 

Her hands are waving in front of her as she speaks, a nervous habit Michelle had only come to be aware of from the ungodly amount of time she used to spend in the Parker apartment. “He...he said your name. More than once,”

Michelle’s face falls as she considers the implications of that combined with the revelation she’s just shared with her and her panic must be evident because May calls her name. 

“Michelle. Breathe.”

“I-“ she tries but she's at a loss for words. The swirl of emotions barreling through her...is it confusion? It feels like she doesn’t know the truth about anything anymore. 

There’s pride there too, something territorial that she has no right to feel given the circumstances. 

May looks sideways for a beat before meeting her eyes again. “You know, we thought maybe he had amnesia… or just had lost a few years, ya know? But now…” she looks pointedly down at her stomach as she finishes,” I think maybe not…”

Michelle clears her throat awkwardly. She doesn’t really know how to respond to that so she looks around at all the faces for the first time. Happy is there along with Ned, with one glaring absence. 

“Where’s…”

May seems to understand because her smile dims just a little, “She went home to shower a little while ago...clear her head.” 

A sinking feeling grows inside her as she presses,” and when he asked for me...I mean, did she—”

“She heard.”

Michelle barely spares time to say hi to Happy and Ned. After her conversation with May, all she’d wanted was to see him, but she wasn’t prepared. Nothing she did could have ever made her ready for this.

Peter’s there with a thick bandage bleeding crimson at his temple and with endless IVs hooked up to him. May’s just at her back and Michelle bumps into her as she sways on her feet and gentle hands rest at the small of her back, steadying her.

“His accelerated healing is working now, but it’s slow. He had a lot of internal bleeding, but they say he’s gonna be _fine._ ”

Michelle lingers there in the doorway, warily eyeing the symphony of beeping monitors arranged around Peter’s bed. May walks around to stand in front of her, grounding her for a moment. 

“I have always believed that love is a beautiful thing. And that it’s enough to overcome anything.” May looks over at him then, her lips tugging down as she continues, “and he _loves_ you,” she squeezes her hands, “he loves you like I’ve never seen him love anyone.”

Michelle is speechless, barely able to keep eye contact as May continues, “And I don’t know what happened-- but I need you to really decide if love is enough for _you_. If not for you, then for this baby.” 

May pats her hands one more time, before resting her own on her hips, “You _all_ deserve to be happy. And sometimes, happiness is messy as fuck.”

Michelle snorts and May gives her a little bit of push on her way out, "Now go on, Hon. I'm gonna check in with the doctor."

“Will you-”

“I’ll keep you updated.” 

And then she’s gone.

Michelle doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting at his side, but she figures it can’t have been more than an hour before she hears a soft groan and snaps her attention up to his face. 

“MJ?”

Tears brim in her eyes in relief when he sees her and manages to tangle their fingers together and squeeze her hand. He’s already looking better than when she came in and a nurse had come in a few minutes back to remove the bandage on his head. 

"I'm here," she presses her forehead to their joined hands, squeezing back just as tightly and sighing... "I'm right here." He motions to the side of the bed and she pulls at the handles until Peter is sitting upright. 

“How did you-” he tries, but a coughing fit overtakes his words and she shushes him, her body running on pure instinct as she cards her fingers through his messy hair. 

“Shhh, save your strength,” she soothes, making a face at him until he lets her hold out the cup of water for him while he drinks. He purses his lips around the straw but his eyes glare playfully as he takes big gulps until he slurps loudly.

Michelle rolls her eyes and tries to ignore the way her hands shake as she sets the empty plastic cup aside. Peter doesn’t try asking his question again-- he knows her well enough and he knows she understood the first time. 

But she doesn’t want to talk about that. How she saw the fight on a tv at her local bodega and dropped a carton of eggs when she saw the headline. How she watched when Peter had gone down for good.

There'd been a moment then, when amid all her worry and fear she'd felt the prickling of fury at her fingertips. 

_She’s been talking to Peter on the phone almost daily, telling him grumpily about her different pregnancy feelings, shyly talking about names and whether they want to know what the sex will be ahead of time (they don’t)._

_Her confusion at the chaos playing out on her screen is immediate, growing twofold when the reporter informs the viewers that this footage was live an hour ago._

_(Why hasn’t anyone called me? Why didn’t anyone tell me what’s going on?)_

_It isn't until she's got Ned on the phone, already on his way to the tower that the bitter truth makes itself plain to her._

_“MJ, I was planning to call you. It all happened so fast and I only got the call from Gwen 10 minutes ago and a driver has already picked me up. I swear I was gonna call you next thing.”_

_Michelle can’t find it in her to be angry with him...not when he’s cleared things up effortlessly._

_(You’re not the girl they call anymore.)_

_Something snaps into place for her then. Even as Ned has to go and promises to keep her up to the minute with updates._

_(“Up to the second, Leeds. I’m not fucking around.”)_

_Even as she sits at home all night, nursing a cold cup of decaf in the hopes that the smell of coffee might help her stay awake...breathing only when the chime of her phone alerts her to another “no change” text from Ned._

_When it rings late the next afternoon, she stares at it for a beat before she accepts the call, certain she’s hallucinating as “May” flashes up at her._

_“You’re still one of his best friends. And since he-” she stumbles and sighs, “you should be here.”_

“Uh...May called me,” she tells him and Peter glances down at her belly, eyes jumping as he takes her in. She hasn’t seen him in person since that day in the park so he hasn’t had the chance to see her rounder, fuller belly. “Well...Ned called me first, but May’s the one who told me to come.”

Peter’s heart rate spikes on one of the beeping monitors positioned all around the head of his bed and his eyes widen further when his brain catches up to her words, “So she-”

“She knows.” 

He twists his lips, nodding to himself as he considers his next question, “And...uh...does….I guess I mean did you happen to see-”

Michelle hates that she knows what he’s asking. It’s a harsh reminder of how messy their entire situation is. “She wasn’t here when I got here.” 

“Oh.”

Peter seems to relax at that and Michelle sits back, standing to put some distance between them. “Did you want me to go or…” 

It hurts her to ask because being away from him when he’s like this is the absolute last thing she wants. Not when she’s finally understood and accepted what she’s spent years running from now. 

He reaches for her instantly, pulling her back into his orbit, pulling until he can rest his head against the bump, press his lips there briefly as her fingers return to his hair. "Please don't. I don't want to be away from you two right now."

Michelle feels a flutter in her stomach at his words, mustering whatever courage she was able to gather on her drive here when she promised herself that she’d stop hiding. 

“I don’t want you to be away either,” she whispers, and then even more quietly, as if to say it too loudly would shatter it, “not ever…”

Peter pulls back to look at her then, the cautious hopefulness in his eyes is what spurs her on. 

“I know I haven’t made this easy for you-”

“No, MJ you’ve been-”

“Please let me…” she begs and he nods. “I haven’t been honest with you about my feelings in a long time and, Pete, I’m so _sorry._ It’s my fault that we lost so much time, it’s my fault that you’re with Gwen, that she’s gonna be hurt too in all this. She doesn’t deserve that…” 

Michelle has to gather herself, feeling the first tears spillover, "I thought about how different yesterday and today could have gone. How if we'd never reconnected, I wouldn't have known what happened. I thought about how stupid I'd been the last 4 years, never reaching out to you even when I promise you never left my mind, Peter." 

“I’d be sitting at home, alone, wondering how you were, if you were happy, if you wanted to see me and I’d say to myself, ‘just send him a message’ and then something would always hold me back. But... I’m done.” 

She swipes at her eyes, belatedly registering the panic on his face and she hurries to cup his cheek, to press him in even closer to her not wanting to leave him wondering any longer.

“And...I _love_ you, Peter. I can’t remember what it’s like _not_ to love you and I-- I’m so tired of pretending I don’t want you, or this. And I know you have your own family now, but I couldn’t risk you dyi-”

She breaks off, emotion choking off the words and MJ thinks that’s probably for the best. Besides, Peter knows what she means. Every day he heads out into the city is a day that he might not come back. 

Yesterday had been one of the closest calls he's had in a while. 

“I just couldn’t go on anymore with you thinking that I don’t love you,” she shrugs, a nervous habit that Peter recognizes for what it is. Years of knowing MJ, of loving her, tells him more than she can say. The forced casualness has always preceded something important.

“It’s always been you, for me, Peter. I _choose_ you.” 

Peter gazes at her then, watches her as she shifts her weight between her feet, and waits.

His hands are reaching for her, threading their fingers snugly, resting gently on the fullness of her middle. Peter stares at the bump, smiling when he feels the flutter of a kick against his palm. 

His smile, this feeling of contentedness, of completion it pushes and pushes at the limits of Peter's emotions. His senses mean he feels everything, experiences everything on 11 but he can't ever remember a time when he felt like this. 

His feelings are too big, his happiness, his relief, his guilt, they all swirl together inside him threatening to burst out of him wildly if he even attempts to put words to what this is like. 

When he looks back to her there’s a quiet excitement radiating from him as he tells her, “that’s great.” 

And just like that, Michelle is laughing through her tears and for the first time since all this started, she feels hopeful. Peter never takes his eyes off her, almost as if he’s scared she’s not real. 

_How could she be? Could this really be happening? he thinks._

The infamous "Parker Luck" has never been on his side when it comes to people he loves and he'd done his work to accept that MJ might be gone forever years ago. The wedding invite was his last-ditch attempt and he could not have predicted how something so seemingly innocuous would create such a ripple effect in his life.

He wouldn’t change a thing.

Well, he thinks that until he looks up to see Gwen at the window to his private room, fingertips barely pressing against the glass. Ned flanks her on one side and he knows that the conversation coming will be one of the hardest he’ll ever have. 

* * *

_"How is he?" Gwen asks immediately and Ned glances at May before he stands, following Gwen down the hall as she makes her way back to Peter's room. They're all being weird and she's starting to worry something is wrong._

_"He's good. He's uh- awake…" She whirls on him then, just a few feet away from the big window looking into Peter's room._

_“What? Why didn’t anyone call me?” Never being one for subtlety, Ned glances towards the window and Gwen immediately heads for it, feeling the air knocked out of her at what she sees._

_She’s speechless for a minute, just watching as Michelle helps Peter drink from a straw, playful annoyance bubbling like a brook between them._

_Ned steps up next to her, feeling conflicted as he watches his two friends finally starting to figure out their shit because it’s unfortunately at the expense of the woman next to him. He’s always prided himself on being honest, impartial so reaches over to squeeze Gwen’s hand._

_“Hey, look. This?” he glances back to see Michelle lay her head against her and Peter’s joined hands. “This fucking sucks.”_

_Gwen scoffs shallowly but doesn’t comment so Ned presses on, “But…” he pauses, waiting for her to meet his eyes, “do you wanna fight for him? It won’t be easy and this feeling...it’ll never fully go away,” he tells her._

_Something heavy settles over him then, “and you know MJ will never fully go away either, but if you wanted to fight, you could.”_

_Gwen turns her attention back to the scene in front of and she’s almost thankful that it makes the next decision so clear._

_It’s not the sight of Michelle huddled next to Peter’s bedside, belly rounded with new life. It’s not the way he handles her with such tenderness, tracing his fingers over the swell, tugging her closer._

_It's not the way she ruffles his hair, the way Gwen can see them laughing even though she caught the glistening of tears in Michelle's eyes._

_It’s the way they look at each other._

_Gwen has only met Michelle twice but she’d watched her interactions with everyone at the wedding and the rehearsal. She’d been able to easily see how she keeps herself just out of reach with people, emotionally._

_So this? This open, crushing expression of pure adoration currently gracing her features? Yeah, it stops Gwen in her tracks. Even more so when she sees that same look reflected back at her two-fold, a look Peter has never quite been able to match with her._

_She steps closer unconsciously, fingertips brushing against the cool glass, “You can’t fight this, Ned...” she whispers, gasping when Peter’s attention locks on to her instantly at the sound of her words._

_She can see Michelle out of the corner of her eye, concern etched heavily across her features as her eyes focus in on Peter before they chance a look in her direction. Gwen doesn't look away from her, even as the tears brim in her eyes._

_“And really? No one should.”_

* * *

Peter hadn’t even sensed them there until she'd spoken and that’s what releases the river of guilt he’s been compartmentalizing behind a dam of his dreams for the future. Washing over everything, drowning out the joy he’d been feeling a moment prior. 

Michelle, ever perceptive, steps back and out of the tempting warmth of Peter’s hands on her. When she glances toward the window she catches Ned’s eye first, seeing only resignation before she shifts to Gwen. 

She’s dressed in a simple t-shirt dress and what looks like a really fluffy cardigan that Michelle assumes she chose because of how chilly hospitals get. 

_She was planning to be here a while,_ she realizes. She can see that Gwen’s hair is still damp from the way it curls at the ends and when they finally lock eyes, Michelle doesn’t think she’s ever wanted to disappear into the walls more. 

If the ground opened up and swallowed her whole, she’d say “thank you” and send it an edible arrangement. 

There isn't any place she thinks she's ever been that's made her feel as wretched as she feels locked in a stare with a teary-eyed Gwen Stacy. There's shock, though less than Michelle would've expected. There's confusion for sure, but the overarching weight of betrayal settles squarely and comfortably on Michelle's shoulders.

The way Gwen looks at her, eyes pleading, imploring to her to say she’s wrong. To say that Ned has it wrong, that there’s no fight to be had. To say that this isn’t real...

It's the kind of look that cements her to the spot where she stands. Gwen presses two fists to her eyes, and when she opens them again, they’re trained lower, taking in Michelle’s condition. 

She darts her gaze back up and when Michelle has to look away, Gwen’s eyes drift back to Peter. The conversation between the two of them is silent, but it’s pointed. Michelle feels stifled just being in the room. The couple ignores her for the most part, both sets of eyes tripping over to her every now and again. 

Finally feeling an opportunity since she’s no longer the center of attention, Michelle excuses herself with the exact amount of awkwardness you’d expect in such a situation. She passes Gwen on her way out, flushing at the way Gwen has to step back to let her pass because of her belly. 

Michelle pauses when she reaches the door, mouth opening and her heart praying she comes up with words that go even a little of the way towards explaining or expressing how terrible she feels. 

Gwen surprises her again, just as she had the day of hers and Peter’s wedding, but this time her eyes lack the same warmth and understanding they’d held then. “I don’t want it.” 

The sound of her voice stills everyone and Michelle sees Ned slowly backing away towards the waiting room, she guesses deciding that maybe two conversations needed to happen and that he wants no part in either. 

She's about to ask Gwen what she means when she continues anyway, "Whatever apology you're about to say. Whatever excuses you're about to make to me, I don't want it, Michelle. You don't deserve the chance to fucking apologize to me, not after this."

Michelle can see how she trembles, how her fingers curl into the hem of her sweater as she stares at her, not judging, just… exhausted. Gwen sniffles lightly, shakes her head to herself as she regathers her composure. 

“I- _fuck_ \- I won’t apologize for saying that,” she says and to MJ it sounds like she literally has to say it out loud to stop herself. 

Gwen is a _good_ person but she also knows she has a right to be selfish right now. “ Just-- don’t ask me to forgive you, alright? I won’t let you put me in that situation.” 

Peter holds his breath, just waiting until he sees MJ nod and finally excuses herself. He watches her go through the window, certain he sees tears before she turns the corner, but he can't be sure. When he turns back, Gwen is already watching him. 

“This does explain a few things for me,” is the first thing she says as she crosses the room and perches cautiously at the edge of Peter’s bed, and she means it. 

His distraction during the rehearsal dinner, his pointed absence after the ceremony, his sudden reservedness towards intimacy with her, his continued “emergencies” always conveniently happening whenever they were able to get an appointment window down at the courthouse….

The list goes on and the more she thinks, the more she feels like a fool. She’s sat too far away from him to reach for and Peter has to think that’s on purpose. 

“When?” She whispers but she knows he’s heard, and she feels the first flickers of true irritation when his stunned “ _huh?”_ reaches her ears. 

She shifts her weight, eyes fixed on the window. Scrubbing a hand across her face, her words come out in a rush, “How many months? When?”

Peter freezes, his aversion to lying and his earnest desire to somehow curb the pain of this situation for her war with themselves in the silence...for too long it seems because Gwen turns to face him, eyes rimmed red, but piercing. 

“Peter. _When_?”

“Maybe...4 months?” 

He watches as she takes in the number, absorbs it, does the math in her head, and even without his enhanced senses he can pinpoint the moment it clicks for her. 

“Gwen, I’m so so-” 

“Our _wedding_?” 

Peter is wrecked. He fists a hand into his hair, pressing his lips together in a vain attempt to stave off the tears, but it's no use. They flow freely down his cheeks, darkening the white fabric of his chest bandages. 

Gwen seems to have lost whatever threadbare hold she had on her own emotions as well as she chokes on a sob, hating the way her heart flutters when he sits up, ignoring his pain, and reaches for her. 

She hates the way she hits him, ignoring his bandages, smashing her palms against him to keep him at bay until she gives up and melts into it. She hates that his arms still feel the same around her, hates how the comfort she draws from him makes her hate him more.

She hates herself for ignoring her instincts every time she felt something was wrong, every time Peter stepped away to take a call or she caught him daydreaming and he'd look downright guilty when she shook him out of it. 

She hates the way he kisses her temple, she hates the way he whispers apologies that mean nothing into her ear. She hates the way a part of her screams at her to fight. Fight for her marriage. For him. 

But Gwen is not a person who chases what she knows can never be truly hers. She’d watched them through the window for far longer than she should’ve and she _knows_ that despite her feelings, she can’t stand in the way of this. 

If not for them, then for her _self._ She deserves to be loved in that all-consuming way that she'd convinced herself only existed in movies and fairy tales until she'd been on the outside looking in at the love that she knows burns bright and strong between Peter and MJ. 

She deserves to be adored and cherished because that person loves who she is, not because of who she’s helped them forget. 

The sun is beginning to set by the time they are able to stop crying, and she turns to face him, tracing over the bridge of his crooked nose, the scruff of his eyebrow, making her memories before she says her goodbye. 

She presses a finger to his lips when he starts to speak, kisses his cheek. “We were good to each other… until we weren’t.” Peter knows she’s being gracious by saying “we” when they both know he’s the one that blew up their happy life. 

Peter sighs, pressing another lingering kiss against her forehead, as he echoes her. 

“We were. Until I wasn’t.” 

He clings to her as she stands, stepping just out of his grasp again and warning him of his IVs when he makes to follow her. She doesn't know what else to say so she smiles and steps back in, takes his hand one last time because she can't help herself.

“I’ll see you around, Peter.” 

They both know she won't. Neither of them says it. 

And then she's gone. Back down the hallway, through the thankfully empty waiting room, and safely into the elevator. 

And someday… a long time from now she thinks she’ll be able to be happy for them. For their love renewed and for their family, a family Peter has always wanted so desperately. She knows one day she will, but that day is not today.

Today her entire life changed. 

Today she lost her best friend. Today she lost a partner and a lover. Today she lost a mother, feeling the dull ache of missing her Saturday brunches with May settle over her. Today she lost a family and-

Her ears are rushing, numb with the weight of a reality without Peter, one she hasn’t known in such a long time and she’s grateful for the railing running around the middle of the elevator as she forces deep deliberate breaths into her clenching lungs. 

Her phone rings twice, seeing both May and Ned's names across the screen, but she can't. She doesn’t know how long she’s stood there, breathing, but eventually she feels well enough to step out and into this new normal. 

The anguish doesn’t leave her for a long time. Not on the 3rd day or the 30th, but underneath it, she carves out space for the small joys.

For the flicker of excitement at new possibilities. 

For the flutter of relief and the alluring rumbles of something else that sounds like freedom.

* * *

> _Ooh, if I can't have you_   
>  _Then I have to find a way to get through  
> _   
>  _Though I don't want to_   
>  _I have to do my best to recall  
> _   
>  _That I'm thankful that I held you at all..._
> 
> * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! You made it. Thank you for coming on this journey with me and thanks so much for all your insightful comments! 
> 
> There will be an epilogue, don't worry!!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @michellesbohh! <3


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